For a moment, we all just stood there, catching our breath. Then Fenric's tablet pinged with an incoming message. His face, already pale, went positively ashen as he read it.
"What now?" I sighed wearily.
"Agent Nightstar wants a full report on the inter-dimensional entity," he swallowed hard. "Immediately."
"His name is Horrace," I corrected again.
"Yes, well, Agent Nightstar would like to know why 'Horrace' is in a secured prophetic containment apartment instead of in a proper inter-dimensional holding facility." Fenric's eye was twitching again. "She's not pleased."
"Shocking," Zane muttered.
Rook, who had been quietly assessing Horrace throughout this exchange, finally spoke. "The prophecy specified bringing the monster home."
I blinked in surprise at his support. "You're right. That's the priority."
"In the meantime," Fenric interjected, his bureaucratic instincts kicking in, "we need proper documentation. Species classification, dimensional origin markers, magical signature analysis?—"
"In the meantime," I cut him off, "Horrace stays with me. He needs stability, and I'm his anchor right now."
As if to emphasize my point, Horrace made a soft, musical purr and nestled closer against my neck, his form settled now into something that, while still wildly alien, was at least holding a consistent shape.
Zane and Rook exchanged a look that I couldn't quite interpret. There was wariness there, certainly, but also something else, resignation, perhaps. Or respect.
I couldn't find it in me to care.
Fenric looked like he might actually cry as he collapsed into a chair, tablet clutched to his chest like a shield. "This violates seventeen different Bureau protocols," he whispered hoarsely. "Seventeen!"
"Seventeen's not so bad," Milo cheerfully grinned. "Remember when Winter turned the vending machine sentient? That was twenty-three violations!"
"Twenty-six," Fenric corrected automatically, then groaned. "The paperwork for this is going to be astronomical. Inter-dimensional entity affinity bonds require a Form 62-J with at least three appendices, not to mention the prophetic integration documentation..."
He continued listing forms and regulations, his voice taking on a slightly manic quality as Horrace watched him with all twelve eyes, head tilted curiously.
"Is he going to be okay?" I looked to Zane.
"Eventually," Zane murmured though he was holding back a smile. "Once he's filed everything in triplicate and color-coded his anxiety away."
I couldn't help but smile, though it faded quickly when I caught Rook watching me. His amber eyes were unreadable, but his posture remained tense, vigilant.
"What?" I asked him directly.
"Everything's changed. Again."
Looking down at Horrace, at the prophetic markings that now pulsed in perfect synchronization with his presence, I couldn't argue with that. Whatever path the prophecy was leading me down, it had just taken another unexpected turn.
And judging by the way Fenric was now hyperventilating into a paper bag while muttering about form submissions, Rook growling under his breath every time Horrace shifted position, Milo feeding Frank while telling him of our adventure and Zane watching the whole scene with cautious calculation, my protectors were going to have a hard time adjusting to our newest team member.
Tough britches.
Chapter
Seventeen
Winter
"Horrace, no! You can't eat the remote control!" I lunged across the couch, grabbing the TV remote just as one of Horrace's tentacles was about to pull it into his mouth. After three days of living with an inter-dimensional manticore, I still wasn't entirely sure which part of him consumed things.
"It's not food," I explained for what felt like the hundredth time. "It's technology. Remember our talk about not eating technology?"
